Forgiveness
by Insanity-Plus
Summary: "Father, I know that I have broken your laws and my sins have separated me from you. I am truly sorry, and now I want to turn away from my past sinful life toward you. Please forgive me, and help me avoid sinning again." Ichigo, head Priest of his covenant, falls in love with a Demon from Hell. IchiRuki. Demon!Rukia. R&R!


**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters associated with the Anime/Manga. They belong to Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump Magazine. Please support the official release.**

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" _Father, I know that I have broken your laws and my sins have separated me from you. I am truly sorry, and now I want to turn away from my past sinful life toward you. Please forgive me, and help me avoid sinning again."_

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"Please God...forgive me and my transgressions..."

Hands clasped tightly together, Ichigo crouched on his knees by his bed in his personal chamber. His eyes were shut tight, hiding glazed amber colored eyes. His knuckles were turning white from how tight he was clasping his hands in front of him on the bed, his prayer being spoken softly but urgently to the air.

"I have sinned...I have committed a terrible, terrible crime against you." he spoke, his heart heavy with guilt. His black robes strew about him as he leaned over the bed praying for forgiveness, feeling heavier than before, the white collar around his neck seemingly burning in resentment at his sins.

With his eyes closed he could see the act, see the crime being played out over and over again in his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about how wrong it was...how horrible it was for him to take part in such a vile atrocity...how... _good_ it felt...

"Please...forgive me..." Ichigo whispered again, trembling as a sob escaped him.

"Forgiveness is merely a notion," a new voice spoke to him. His eyes shot wide open at the voice, his fingers shaking in fear. "Why crave something so trivial?"

Ichigo closed his eyes again, not daring to look back where he knew the owner of the voice stood, smirking at his plight. "His forgiveness is all I desire in life...His love...His ever-lasting care. I do not expect _you_ to understand."

A chuckle, one so devious and amused. It sent a shiver down his spine as it rang out just a few inches behind him. "Do you resent me so? Do I truly cause you such torment? If you hate me so much, why don't you cast me out?"

Ichigo remained silent.

"Exactly." He could feel breath being blown out over the back of his neck, the little hairs standing on end. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he tried to ignore her presence.

"Go away," he demanded.

"You wish me gone?"

"Yes!" Ichigo shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

Another chuckle, this one more feminine. He hated how the sound affected him. She was the embodiment of femininity, of entrapment...of lust.

"I sense a waver in your tone," she cooed, her breath hot and tantalizing. He shivered, his eyes opening slightly to look down at his intertwined fingers. He could feel her crouching behind him now, knew she was looking over his shoulder at his hands as he was. He could practically feel her smirk as she spoke, "Turn and look at me, Priest."

Ichigo shook his head softly. "Do not call me that," he said.

"Hmm? But is that not what you are?" she inquired.

"I am a disgrace to this church, to His Holiness. I do not deserve the title of a man of God." Ichigo slowly pulled his hands apart, the weight of his sins heavy upon his soul. He closed his eyes again, taking in the depth of his own words, realizing that deep down he had always been a sinner. He had questioned the methods of his church, wondered about the existence of his Lord. He had sinned long before meeting this woman, and did not deserve to be called Priest.

He did not deserve forgiveness.

A silence reigned over the room as Ichigo remained leaning over his bed, his eyes trailing along the pristine clean red sheets and perfectly fluffed white pillow. His eyes trailed upwards along the stone wall across from him to see the wooden cross pinned up above. It stood as a testimony to what he had long since tried to accomplish. He had spent his life trying to be worthy of that symbol, of trying to amount up to be enough for it. And yet he sat here, unworthy and undeserving. He was a broken man, left behind by God as punishment for his actions against Him. Kurosaki Ichigo, a man who was viewed as the embodiment of God himself by the eyes of his convent, was a sinner.

"Do not look," her hand swiped across his vision and covered his eyes, blocking the cross from view. He closed his eyes and let her wrap her arms around him, one around his head and the other around his shoulders. He could feel her lithe body pressing against his back, the fabric of his robes bunching as their bodies melded together perfectly. He was ashamed to admit he relished the feel of her, the softness of her touch, the coolness of her skin against his face, the slight wisp of her raven hair brushing against the skin of his neck, the press of her breasts against his back.

He was ashamed to admit...he loved her.

He loved a Demon.

"Why me?" he whispered sullenly, not fighting her grip like she expected. He did not lean into it, but he also did not fight it like their first encounter.

She made a humming noise, as if in thought, and then spoke directly in his ear. "Your innocence attracted me, I suppose. There was just something about you...something... _delicious._ "

"'Was'?" Ichigo repeated. "You speak as if it is gone, this thing that attracted you," he said.

"It is," she said, shifting slightly. "That innocence is gone. It is now replaced by shame, I can smell it on you, all over." She leaned down, placing a kiss on his shoulder, making him flinch, memories of their last meeting replaying through his mind. "But do not misunderstand me, Priest; I am very much so still attracted."

"I said don't call me that," he reprimanded.

"Fine," she said, tightening her hold over him slightly. "I will call you by your name...only if you call me by mine."

Ichigo frowned. "Why do you care if I call you by your name? Isn't Demon enough?"

A low growl sounded from the crook of his neck and shoulder, and for the first time since she arrived he realized she could easily kill him. With her arm around his head like this, all it took was a quick twist and he'd be gone.

"I may be a Demon, but I have a name," she said. "As you do not wish to be called Priest, I do not wish to be called Demon."

Ichigo remained silent for the length of three heartbeats, mulling over her words and truly considering them. He gave a soft intake of breath, and then said her name: "Rukia."

She gave a sigh, pressing closer to him. She was content, he knew. A part of him hated himself for giving pleasure to a Demon, a servant of Hell; but another part of him was...joyed. He felt good at making her happy, as if it was his job to do so.

"Look at me, Ichigo," she said his name in a sultry tone, making his loins burn in desire. He tried to fight it, tried to disobey her, but he couldn't. As she pulled back he turned, opening his eyes and looking at her in all of her glory.

She was a good foot shorter than him, with raven hair that fell past her chin in silky strands, a single bang between what could only be described as _violet_ eyes. She was dressed in a black set of robes with white trim, similar to his own Priest robes but plainer. She looked nothing of the Demons he had grown up fearing. She had no horns, no claws, no glowing red eyes, and no gray skin. She was beautiful, in all senses of the word. The only indication he had of what she truly was were her slightly pointed ears and sharper than normal canines. Looking at her on the street you wouldn't think twice about these slight abnormalities, but with his knowledge and his standing he knew. He knew from the first moment he saw her she was a Demon.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling weak in her presence as he sat on his behind and pressed his back against the bed.

Rukia stared up at him, sitting on her knees only a few inches shorter than him. They were close, too close for him to breathe properly. He fought the blush that wanted to creep up on him, keeping as much composure as he possibly could under her gaze.

"What do I want?" her lips formed the words slowly, her eyes shining with mirth as he followed the movements closely with his eyes. "I just want a companion, someone to tend to in my spare time. I want a lover, someone to call _mine._ "

She leaned closer, making Ichigo's heart race even faster than it was before. She puckered her lips slightly, and he knew she was about to kiss him. He had dreamt of her lips all throughout his sleeping hours, remembering the taste of them and the feel of them on his own. He had been fighting the desire for them all day today, and now as they neared he was overcome with that same desire once more.

"No..." he whispered halfheartedly, feeling his eyes hooding. His defiance was out of obligation rather than true disobedience. She ignored his plea and pressed against him, kissing his lips softly. He instantly returned the kiss, closing his eyes and relishing her taste. She crawled closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, dizzying him. His hands found her hips and he felt her smile against his mouth. Her hands moved over his neck, her finger hooking through the white collar around his throat and pulling it off, relinquishing him of his duties and his cares. His world melted away.

Her lips, her tongue, her scent, her skin, her body, her everything. It teased him, tested him, drove him mad. Her hands, her fingers, her touch. Her mouth, her voice, her moans; his name on her lips. He couldn't resist. He was pulled in and she wouldn't let him go. She had him in her grasp and in the heat of the moment he wondered if he ever wanted to leave.

Sitting on the edge of his bed in nothing but his underwear, Ichigo stared down at his hands. Fingers stained with sin, he curled them into his palms and shook as sobs fell from between his lips. Once again he had sinned, had committed the ultimate crime. He had loved a Demon for the second time, and he feared what lay in store for him because of it.

"Full of regret," Rukia's voice came from behind him on the bed, her naked body covered by the sheets. "Full of sin, full of conflicting emotions and ideals. You are a broken man, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"I know," he whispered, closing his eyes in an attempt to still the tears. "I know..." he repeated.

"Do you plan to pray once more? To ask forgiveness from your God?" she asked, taunting him. "Because he won't."

"I know," Ichigo turned to her. "Does it make you happy? To have corrupted me so?"

Rukia smiled up at him from her spot on the bed, her head lying on his pillow. She took a moment to inhale his scent, making sure he knew how much she loved it. "My joy does not come from your strife."

"From where does it come from then?" he inquired.

"From a great many things," she said, looking up into his eyes. "I find contentment in punishing the souls of those who sinned in life. I am pleased when new souls come to my domain. And I am happy with where I stand in my world."

"Is that why you've come to me?" Ichigo asked, feeling a sinking numbness growing in his core. "To damn me so you could have a new soul come for you to punish?"

"No," she said, shaking her head softly. "I told you before, I search for a lover."

"A lover..." he repeated, turning away. "So you choose me. Am I...satisfying enough for you?"

Her expression turned soft, her smile widening. "More than enough."

Ichigo ignored the skip of a beat in his chest. "This...was the last time," he whispered.

"Excuse me?" Rukia propped herself up with her elbow, raising a brow at him.

"We will never repeat our transgressions ever again," Ichigo said firmly.

Rukia remained quiet for a moment, staring at his back as the words sank in. After a moment, she chuckled, lying back down on the bed.

"That's what you said last time."

Ichigo didn't respond. He sat there in silence for what felt like hours, staring down at his hands which were folded in his lap. He didn't need to turn around to see that she had left, leaving him alone with his thoughts. She would be back, he knew. She had promised so.

Wiping his face clean and kneeling down onto his knees with his hands clasped over his disheveled bed, he began to pray.

"Please God...forgive me and my transgressions..."


End file.
